Whilst in England
by Angst Is My Middle Name
Summary: Victor writes a bit in his journal regarding his trip to England with Henry. Slash if you squint really, really hard.


Disclaimer: I don't own Framkenstein. Just this story. - xXxXx

_I write these thought whilst on my way to Geneva._

My father is at last asleep, and so I may now write freely. Even as my pen touches the paper, tears fall from my eyes. The one foremost in my thoughts, one who is gone, brings me joy and sadness all in one blow. It is he who perished far too soon, my beloved, cherished Henry! I must stifle my sobs in order that my father should remain asleep.

Oh! poor Henry! to be murdered by one he called dear and precious. Upon seeing the evil black marks on his throat, a piece of me died, part of my very soul, for I knew that I was the cause. How I wish I were already dead from grief! I cannot even begin to describe the pain which engulfs my breast at the memory of seeing my beloved companion's corpse. At the moment, I wished for death, just as an end to my suffering and grief. While I was ill, the thought of death was my only comfort. My marriage to Elizabeth was but a small consolation. Though I am happy to be getting married, the loss of Henry has ruined my happiness utterly.

How can I possibly wake each morning to beauty and joy without Henry entering my thoughts? He always saw joy and life in everything. My welfare was constantly his main concern, and he always endeavoured to make me smile and laugh. I never saw a more joyful, gay person in all my years. A mere smile from him could make me feel – if only for a moment – as if everything would be alright in the end. Oh! such false hopes I had! to believe my evil sins should end in happiness. Perhaps I shall one day regain my joy, but it will only occur when I am dead. Henry, my dear Henry – I gave him such cause for alarm and no reason for my madness.

I vividly recall one day in England, whilst on our travels, we stayed for the night at a small inn. We had a rather late supper before returning to the only remaining room. I perceived Henrys gaze upon me, though I did my best to ignore it, burning though it was. Finally, as I sat despondent by the window, he spoke his mind.

"Victor, wherefore are you so sad and gloomy? I have not seen you happy in almost a year, not since I found you unwell in Ingolstadt. It pains me to see you so. Please, one smile, one true laugh is all that is needed to stave my fears. How can I possibly continue to be so joyful when I know that you are not? For God's sake, tell me why you are so despondent!" he exclaimed, his voice then softening to a whisper as he perceived tears rolling down my face, "My dear Victor, are you always to be unhappy?"

In a great rush of sensation, I suddenly felt my friend's hands upon my face, my burning hot tears, Henry's eyes holding the most love and warmth and sadness I had ever seen. Then, after the moment passed, I began to weep bitterly. Henry wrapt his arms around me immediately, instinctively clutching me to his breast. I grabbed at his coat; the need for the touch and comfort of another human being had become overwhelming. For the entirety of that night, I refused to be parted from him. Henry was, as I perceived it, my last link to humanity and salvation, and I would not give him up so easily. Therefore, our night at that inn was spent with myself in his arms, even whilst we slept.

When we woke in the morning, Henry looked me over in order that I should look respectable and brushed away a few remaining tears from my cheeks. We then continued on our way to Scotland. I clutched his hand tightly whenever I could, if only to make certain that he was still beside me and still living. He was the most beloved of all my companions – I daresay even before Elizabeth – and the only one who would endure my ravings. As such, I was extremely fearful of leaving him alone, but he could not know of the monstrosity I could create. Truly, it was Henry who ruled my thoughts during my frightful after destroying the creature's mate.

There are no words in existence to describe my grief upon seeing my beloved Henry's corpse. I staggered to and fell upon his body, broken-hearted on feeling the coldness. I wept myself into convulsions of grief and agony, for I felt the pain of a part of my soul being ripped out of my chest. Mr. Kirwin told me that whilst I was ill, not only did I declare myself a murderer, but also I begged for death; I replied that I indeed wished to die. Thoughts of Henry tore me in two utterly different directions: to live or die. He would want me to live and carry on, while I wished most passionately for death in order that I could join him.

However, I chose to do as he would have wished and go on living. Even now, I weep bitterly but quietly. My father stirs. I shall finish by stating that I shall see my beloved companion Henry Clerval again someday. Oh! how I hope the day comes soon!

-_V. Frankenstein_

xXxXx Please review! Reviews make me post more! 


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